A Thing About Peanut Butter
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: It's kinda weird how peanut butter can make or break relationships.


**A Thing About Peanut Butter**

 _In his dreams, Callum sees Claudia._

 _The dream is not so deep that he's unaware that it's a dream, yet it's deep enough that he cannot control his actions, or will himself to wake. But, he reflects to himself, why would he? He's in his own dream. The world outside is full of danger, hardship, and strife. Once he re-enters the waking world, he'll be in a place where elves are trying to kill him, humans want to capture him, and where giant fish creatures want to eat him. If he goes back to the waking world, he'll be in a place where his mother is still dead, where his foster father is still dead, and where the future of the entire continent rests on him and his friends getting a baby dragon to its mother that, come to think of it, will probably just incinerate them as soon as she sees humans drawing near._

 _He really should have thought about that awhile ago, he reflects._

 _But none of the mundane concerns of the real world concern him right now. For what is the real world but the place for those who cannot dream? Granted, Archmage Mercure probably had more dignified words than that when he penned_ A Theory on the Condition of the Human Mind _512 years ago, but, hey, whatever. Him. Claudia. The dream._

" _Callum," she whispers._

 _Him, Claudia, and…oh. Oh._

" _You shouldn't," he whispers._

 _Is that him saying that, or dream-him saying that? Like, he's seeing what dream-him says, but real-him kinda feels that he's just along for the ride. Like, if he takes what Claudia's offering, would he be the one to taste it? Does taste exist in dreams? And…wait. Why is he asking that? Maybe the dream isn't as deep as it originally was._

" _Callum," she whispers again._

 _But that doesn't matter. All that matters is to take what's offered. To sink his teeth into her gift. To smell and taste, within the vortex of his mind. To dream, to dare, to fly._

" _It's good," he says._

" _I'm glad you like it."_

 _He smiles and takes another bite of the peanut butter sandwich._

 _It's a very good sandwich he reflects. It might be a dream sandwich, but it's a tasty dream sandwich. When he wakes up, he'll be in a world where his stomach's rumbling, his head's pounding, and where his body is yelling at him to just go home, flop down on the bed and sleep for a week. Right now, in the dream, as he and Claudia sit in the garden of Castle Katolis, he's reminded that if he did go back, he'd be able to see her at least. The real her. A person who he could eat real peanut butter sandwiches with. The person that he could see through his real eyes, catching glances in the garden. She'd be reading a book (50/50 chance as to whether it would be fiction or non-fiction), he'd be training in the way of the sword (where he'd have a 0/100 chance of being any good at it), and…okay, phrasing it like that, maybe that's not so good, but-_

" _It's nice here," he blurts out._

 _Dream-Claudia looks at him and smiles. Dream-him looks away and blushes. He doesn't know how he knows he's blushing – it's like being in a dream makes him aware of everything that's in the dream, even beyond his own sight._

" _It is nice," she says. She shifts her body across the bench – close enough that their bodies are nearly touching, close enough that she can interlock her hand with his. "I miss you y'know."_

 _Did Katolis become a desert? Why's it so hot here?_

" _Yeah, I…yeah, I miss you too. I mean, shadow wolf company excepted."_

 _Dream-Claudia laughs as real-Claudia would. She bends down and out of a basket that wasn't there a second ago, picks out another peanut butter sandwich._

" _You should come home," she says, as she hands him the sandwich and picks out one for herself._

 _He take a bite – by all that's holy, it tastes good. He-_

" _Callum."_

" _Huh?" He looks around. Claudia didn't say anything – she's still eating her own sandwich._

" _I mean, if you were home, we could be in the real garden," she whispers. "With real food, and real books, and-"_

" _Callum."_

" _Huh?" He drops his sandwich and it disappears before it even hits the ground. Looking around, a lot seems to be disappearing. The garden's shrinking. The sky is falling. The walls of Castle Katolis are crumbling. All without sound. No cries, no crashes, nothing._

" _And you could be with me," she says._

 _He blinks – is that Claudia speaking? Or him?_

" _Callum!"_

 _She takes another bite of her sandwich. He leans over. He isn't ready to leave. He wants to stay. Wants to be with her, in this dream, in this paradise. Wants very much to kiss her, because here, with only he, himself, and desire, he now realizes that he's wanted that for a long time and-_

##

"Callum!"

"Gah!"

He springs up, and in less than a second, realizes the true, cruel nature of the world. As in, the real world, which mind and body are back in. He's on the Cursed Caldera. He's freezing. Judging by the sun, it's early morning. He's starving, and as it turns out, dream sandwiches don't do much to fill you up. And finding yourself face to face with an elf assassin who looks ready to do some actual assassinating…damn it, he really wants to be back in his own bed right now.

"Rayla," he groans.

Or heck, any bed.

"Wakey wakey," she says. She squats down, her eyes locking in with his. Kind of like how a cat might stare at a mouse before devouring it.

"Ugh," he groans, turning over on the not so nice hard rock that counts for a bed in this part of the world. "Why'd you have to wake me?"

"Oh, y'know – returning our dragon friend to his mother. Stopping a war. Staying alive. That sort of thing."

Callum grunts.

"And hey, so sorry to interrupt your dreams, but-"

"Dreams?" He springs back up again – the mouse is staring at the cat, only in this case circumstance has made the prospect of being devoured the less terrifying option. "What dreams?"

"Oh, I dunno," she shrugs. "Something about peanut butter. And sandwiches."

"Oh." _Thank goodness._

"And someone named Claudia."

Callum blinks – is it just him, or is Rayla looking a bit different today? Like, most of the time, she's got either an angry face, or a frustrated face, or a "woe is me" face, but this face is some weird combination of the three, and a whole lot of other faces.

"Far as I can tell, she was giving you peanut butter sandwiches, and you were quite happy about that."

"Um…" Callum rubs his belly. "What can I say? Not much food up here."

"True," Rayla says, glancing towards Ezran, Bait, and Az, who seem to be getting on quite well. "But far as I can tell, the source of the food was more enticing than the food itself."

"Yeah, well, like…um…"

"Yes?"

It isn't feeling so cold now for some reason. Which is odd, because the sun is still low in the sky.

"Callum?"

"What's it to you?" he blurts out.

"Oh, nothing," she says, drawing out one of her blades and flicking it around. "Absolutely nothing."

Callum winces – not just because the blade is a bit closer (scratch that, a lot closer) than he'd like, but he finally knows what's different about Rayla. It isn't her face (well, it is, sort of), but that's not it. Not really...

It's her voice. On the surface, she sounds the same – that weird accent that he's never heard before, that sounds good-strange as Ezran would put it rather than bad-strange. But after weeks of travelling with this crazy girl, Callum has learnt to pick up on certain things. There's an aggressiveness in her voice, hidden by the accent, but there. It's the kind of aggressiveness that's popped up every so often. But here, it feels more focused. More…thick, he supposes. More thick than even the thickest type of peanut butter there is, and even thicker when she was in the whole "I'm going to murder you" phase.

"Um…"

Not that he's forgotten about the whole nearly being murdered thing, but he figures if they're going to reach Xadia, a slightly less angry Rayla would better their chances than an angry Rayla.

"Hmm?" She's now standing up and not looking at him, instead doing various kinds of movements with her blade. But she's at least listening.

"I mean, just so you know…Claudia…"

"I don't know who Claudia is."

"Well, thing is, you do," Callum says. "She's the one we met back at Katolis. The girl who we met under the castle."

"Huh?" Rayla blinks. "Oh, right. That girl." She frowns. "The one who summoned shadow wolves and tried to kill us?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second, but-"

"They bit me!" Rayla taps her right arm, upon which Callum can see some scars that have almost faded.

"Yeah, and? You're still alive aren't you?"

He can tell that he's said the wrong thing. Not from what Rayla says, but rather from what she doesn't.

"I mean, she's actually very nice," Callum says. "I mean, she can seem a little weird, and I get that shadow wolves aren't the best way to make a first impression, but if you take the time and get to know her, you…should I stop talking?" He can tell that she isn't that interested.

"Don't mind me, keep talking about your friend."

"Hey, she's not my…" He trails off. "Oh yeah. Friends. Right. Sure. I mean, once we get the prince back to his mother we'll all be friends, right?"

Rayla grunts and goes back to flipping her blade around. Callum frowns – right now, he'd prefer conversation laced with passive aggression rather than no aggression at all. Still, he has to be careful – he can tell that Rayla doesn't like peanut butter, so if he's going to break the ice, he'll have to be careful about it.

"Oh hey, your arm's back to normal!" he exclaims.

Always a good move, changing the subject

"Huh?" She stops flipping the blade around and looks at him.

"Your arm's back," he said. "I mean, look at it. You can use your slishy blade again."

"My what?" she asks.

"Yeah, your slishy blade," he says, gesturing towards it. "I mean, your arm's back to normal, and you've got your slishy blade out, and I get that you don't like peanut butter but-"

She whacks him on the head with its hilt.

"Ow!"

"This isn't my slishy blade," she says. "This is my slashy blade."

"You whacked me for that?!"

She draws out the other blade. "This is my slishy blade." She holds them both up in a cross-guard pose, nodding to each of them. "Slishy. Slashy. See the difference?"

"Um…no?"

She makes a 'scoff' sound and sheathes both of them. "Yeah, well, if you can't see what's right in front of you…well, don't mind me."

Callum blinks. Her voice has changed again. It's lost the passive aggressiveness, now it's more passive…passiveness.

"Um…"

"Don't worry Callum," she says, turning about. "There'll be plenty of peanut butter for you in Xadia."

"Um…great," he calls out. "That'll be great. Really great."

She doesn't respond. She just keeps walking away.

He doesn't get it – does Rayla not like peanut butter? Is this an elf thing? A woman thing? Or an elf-woman thing? Getting to his feet, he stretches, yawns, turns around and sees-, "Gah!"

Ellis. Another woman (or girl, really). Just standing there. Looking at Rayla before looking at Callum.

"Ellis?" he asks.

"I don't like peanut butter," she says. "I prefer jam sandwiches myself."

"Oh, um, great."

"Though I don't think Rayla is too worried about what you eat," she says. "Just saying."

Callum doesn't say anything. But he wonders if Ellis might be right…

Still, it's time for breakfast, and peanut butter or no, he's starving.

Priorities and all that.


End file.
